


Potato Salad

by intellexual_asexual



Series: Ego Short Stories [26]
Category: Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: crying in the club rn over an animatronic man smh, dark discovers the waia, dark responds and i cant say what he says bc thats spoiling the story, god that video was amazing oh my god, no beta we die like actor mark, since the summary is bad ill tell you it here, the waia spews some deep shit at him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:06:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29924202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intellexual_asexual/pseuds/intellexual_asexual
Summary: He didn't know the gun was loaded. He didn't know. Was it his fault? (Yes.)
Series: Ego Short Stories [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2106381
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	Potato Salad

**Author's Note:**

> OK I got some of my motivation back lksfhldkfjs. And also, there are spoilers for Mark's newest video, "The Warfstache Automated Interview Automation," in this story so if you haven't already, GO FUCKING WATCH IT BECAUSE IT"S AMAZING OH MY GOD—

“Wilford, what in God’s name makes you think I will allow you to keep… _that_?”

“Aw, Darkie, because you love me?”

Darkiplier mumbled, “more like _tolerate_ you,” as he shot another disgusted glance at whatever Wilford Warfstache had drug in this time. It was an old, run-down animatronic of sorts, and it resembled Wilford right down to his mustache. He called it the WAIA (or so Dark thought, since Wilford had just screamed), short for the “Warfstache Automated Interview Automation.” Wilford said he was preparing to use it to cover for more of his interviews, but he accidentally left it out in the rain a few too many times. Now it sat dejectedly in the Manor’s foyer, waiting for the head of household’s imminent decision as to how to dispose of it.

“Come on, Darkie! I can fix ‘em up in no time! Maybe you can get old Googster to lend me a hand?”

Dark sighed and turned away from the robotic abomination. “I doubt Google will want to help you with this… project.”

Wilford made puppy eyes, and Dark looked at a point over his shoulder as to not fall victim to them. “Please?”

“No. And that is my final decision. No amount of pleading, begging, or bribing will make me change my mind. Go find a suitable dumpster to place this thing in.” Dark gestured to the WAIA behind him, and Wilford slumped over, defeated.

“Fine.” He went away in a puff of pink smoke, and Dark turned back to watch over the WAIA. He knew Wilford drew inspiration from whatever kids pizzeria he frequented, and from the rumors Dark knew that their animatronics more or less malfunctioned at night. He didn’t want this thing malfunctioning and attacking the Ipliers, so he stood over it and observed it carefully.

Besides for the occasional twitch or exclamation of “potato salad,” the WAIA seemed harmless. Dark figured Wilford went to sulk either in his room or the television studio, since it had almost been an hour since he left. Dark sighed and started to walk away, heading to his office. He had plenty more important things to do besides babysit a pile of scrap metal.

“...A m̵̥̈́a̷̟͊n̸͍̅ goes to a p̷͕͂ḁ̶̈r̵̭̽t̶͚͘y̸͈̔.”

Dark froze. He turned back to the WAIA slowly, and he saw that it was now turned on. It was still sitting down where he had made Wilford put it, thank God, but it was talking.

“..̵̰̽.̷̼̊T̶̛͓h̴̼͛i̴̘̕s̶̨̀ ̶̪̇man ̶̦̕m̷͕̽ę̵̋t̶̡ ̸͉̈ạ̵́n̵̳̾ ̸̫̎ő̴̤l̶͖̕d̴̻̚ ̴̭̈friend.̸̜̋”

What was the WAIA saying? Had Wilford programmed it to tell stories along with asking questions? Dark made a mental note to tell Google about this as he listened further.

“...T̴͕́h̵̠̃e̴̕ͅ ̷̨̆t̶̘̋w̴̢͂o̵̭ ̷͕̚friends ̶̣̔ŝ̷͈h̸͔̓å̷͕r̵̲̄ë̷̝d̶͖̊ ̶̞̽s̴̡͒o̸̹͘m̴̡̈́ë̵̘́ ̴̖̎w̷͓̎ị̴͒n̵̮̕e̶̦.̶̳̀ ̴̬͆T̴̳͂ḫ̸̇e̵̙͒ ̷͎̋t̷̳̊w̷̩͋ò̸̡ ̸̹̕friends ̵͎p̵̟̈́l̶̺a̸̲͑ỵ̸̐è̸̪d̵̊͜ ̸̰̋a̵͓̎ ̴͂ͅgame.̸̹͑ ̵͖́T̸͉͝ḩ̴͑ē̶̬ ̷͉̔m̸̜̋ỏ̷ͅs̶̜̏t̸̪͝ ̵͈͠dangerous game.”

“...I didn’t know the gun was loaded. I didn’t know. Was it my fault?”

Dark was startled now. He knew what the WAIA was referring to. Why were they speaking in the first person? Why did their voice grow clearer when they spoke that way?

He didn’t know how to answer them. Dark was torn between telling this thing what it wanted to hear and telling it what it dreaded most. But what did it matter, anyway? It’s not like the WAIA was functioning properly. It’s not like the WAIA was a real being with real feelings.

Dark kneeled down and looked the WAIA in it’s bright, emotionless eyes. “Yes.”

The WAIA’s internal lights flickered. “...I’m sorry… for everything… that I’ve done. I don’t remember who I was. 

“...I wish I did. ...But… I… am… sorry.

“...

“.̶̜́.̶̭̾.̴̙͋p̵̟̓o̴̯͋t̷͈̀a̸̝͌t̶͚͆ô̶͖ ̵̣̆s̴̭̓a̴̠͆l̵̢̈́ä̸̢d̴͎͝.̵̺͋”

The WAIA suddenly made a noise like a group of kids cheering, and Dark was spewed in the face with confetti from the WAIA’s open chest cavity. Wilford poofed back into the foyer with perfect timing, and when he caught sight of Dark covered in confetti he laughed.

“Ah yes, you found my little easter egg! My WAIA likes potato salad as much as I do, so I made it celebrate everytime someone mentions it. It’s got all my thoughts, too, see, and of course I would celebrate if someone brought up potato salad!”

Dark wiped confetti from his suit, not taking his eyes off of the WAIA. It’s lights had turned back off, it’s voice box had gone silent. But Dark could still hear what it had said to him.

_I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done._ “ _All_ of your thoughts, Warfstache?”

“Yup! Nothing a little brain scan can’t do!”

Dark heard Wilford talking and rummaging around behind him, but he took no real notice as he stared at the WAIA, still kneeling on the ground. 

It was only when Wilford mentioned the WAIA again did Dark say something. “Well, I finally found a free dumpster around here, you wouldn’t believe—”

“I think we can keep it, Wilford.”

Wilford stopped, and Dark could see him out of the corner of his eye staring at him. He didn’t mean for his voice to come out so soft spoken, and he was surprised Wilford even heard him.

“Well gee, Darkie, I thought—”

_I don’t remember who I was._ “Stop. Go ask Google if it is appropriate to house this in their workshop. Otherwise… otherwise, you can keep it in your room.”

Dark still didn’t take his eyes off of the WAIA, but he knew that Wilford was grinning since he shrieked and teleported away again.

...Dark didn’t know what to do now. What should he say to the WAIA? Would it respond again if he did say anything?

His knees were starting to get sore, so he stood up. Dark looked down at the WAIA. It hadn’t moved or lit up since it sprayed him with confetti. He wondered if would react to what he was going to tell it.

_I wish I did. But I am sorry._ “...I forgive you, WIlliam.”

Dark was gone in a puff of smoke before he could see the WAIA turn back on and spray another round of confetti.

**Author's Note:**

> This was fun to write, it got me back in the mood to write works jshgkj. Let me know if you guys want a version where Dark says "No" and shows more empathy, I made him say "Yes" first because I'm an idiot and that's what I picked on my first run through.  
> As always, make sure to leave a comment if you like this work, and don't be afraid to request another!


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